


we weren’t stitched up quite right

by sirenic (noctiphany)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Crying, Double Penetration, Dubious Morality, Face Slapping, Fucked Up, Heavy BDSM, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, Praise Kink, Spitroasting, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-11
Updated: 2019-01-11
Packaged: 2019-10-08 07:58:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17382728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noctiphany/pseuds/sirenic
Summary: monsters are always hungry, darling, and they’re only a few steps behind you, finding the flaw, the poor weld, the place where we weren’t stitched up quite right





	we weren’t stitched up quite right

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: This fic has extremely unhinged, possibly morally bankrupt characters for no other reason than I do what I want. The consent is implied to be dubious, but rest assured, it is 100% consensual. This is the very definition of pwp as I have zero idea on where they are, why they are, or what they are, just that I needed some crazies to make Yifan cry. For a friend.
> 
> Anyway, that said, just be aware that this particular fic defiiiiinitely lacks the safe and sane part of safe, sane, and consensual and pretty much romanticizes it and the dubious morals of the characters for the sake of idk, I wanted to.
> 
> There's your warning <3

“Baby,” Baekhyun says next to Yixing’s ear, slipping his arms around his waist from behind. “ _ Look _ .” 

Yixing follows Baekhyun’s gaze across the room and finds what had caught his attention. A pretty thing, tall, with a lot of posturing. He's smoking and drinking whiskey and stares at scantily clad women when they walk by, but it’s all a show, an act. Yixing’s seen plenty of his type, so desperate to fit in that he almost,  _ almost _ has himself convinced.

“Mmm,” he says, nonchalant. “He’s cute.”  

“He’s  _ awful _ ,” Baekhyun says, cute little nose scrunching up as he watches the subject of his fascination take a sip of his drink and pretend to be interested in the girl talking to him. “I want to play with him.”

Yixing hums low in the back of his throat as he considers it, stroking Baekhyun's elbow as he watches their target laugh at something she says to him. He really is very beautiful, but of course he is. Baekhyun only loves destroying pretty things.

“Can I, Xing?” Baekhyun asks, body buzzing with impatience and anticipation, fingers climbing up and down Yixing’s arm. “Please?”

Yixing just laughs, turning fluidly in Baekhyun’s arms and leans in until their foreheads touch. “I don’t know,” he says, low and hot and dark, fueling the heat in Baekhyun’s belly. “Are you going to break him like the last one?”

Baekhyun grins, all teeth, sharp and blinding. Ravenous.

The last one had been a disaster, but it was mostly Yixing’s fault. Baekhyun -- Baekhyun gets carried away, almost gets lost in his own kind of headspace and can’t find his way out. That’s what Yixing is for, to reel him back in, to remind him  _ red means stop, Baek.  _ The thing is, it doesn't do much good when Yixing gets so carried away watching  _ Baekhyun  _ that he sort of drifts off too.

“Probably,” Baekhyun says, curling his fingers around the nape of Yixing’s neck and dragging him closer, tracing the shell of Yixing’s ear with his tongue. “But it’s okay. This one wants me to.”

  
: : :

  
“Kris, no,” Chanyeol pipes up as soon as he realizes who Kris has been staring at off and on for the whole night. “Sweetie,  _ no. _ ”

Kris turns to Chanyeol and narrows his eyes. “Fucking sweetie me one more time.”

“Right, sorry, but listen. Those guys,” he says, tilting his head slightly to the side of the room where the two guys who have been staring at Kris all night like he’s not just a snack, but a whole damn  _ meal _ are standing. “You need to stay away from them.”

“They haven’t even spoken to me, Yeol,” he says, taking another sip of his rum and coke. “I don’t think you need to worry about that.”

“Oh god,” Chanyeol sighs. “You’re not listening to me at all. They’re really bad news, okay?”

Kris frowns at him, brows pulling together. “You’re fucking serious right now?”

“Yes, I’m being serious,” Chanyeol says. “You haven’t been around for a while, so you don’t know. But like, they come in here together all the time. They fixate on one person and take them home and…”

“ _ And _ ?” Chanyeol is being ridiculous, but when Kris sneaks a look over his shoulder again and sees the two of them still staring at him, a chill skitters up his spine. It's not entirely unpleasant though.

“I’m just saying,” Chanyeol says, picking up his beer and taking a long pull. “We never see any of them again.”

Kris snorts out a laugh. “It’s a nightclub, you idiot,” he says. “Just because you live here doesn’t mean everyone does.”

“First of all,” Chanyeol points a finger in his face. “Fuck you. Second of all, bitch, I’m serious. If you die tonight how am I going to make rent?”

Kris swallows the last sip of whiskey in his glass and looks out across the crowd. Again, he finds both of them still focused on him.  _ Him.  _ He doesn’t get it. The place is full of people,  _ hot _ people. They could pick literally anyone they wanted to have some kinky one night stand with. What made them pick him?

“Oh good,” Chanyeol sighs as Kris stands up. “You’re a fucking idiot. Great.”

Kris just shrugs and throws a couple of bills onto the table. He can still feel their eyes on him as he walks off.

  
: : :

  
It’s cute when they play hard to get, Yixing thinks. Or maybe it's that Baekhyun is cute when they play hard to get. He likes it, the chase, the anticipation. He likes standing right outside the men’s room door, waiting, waiting, then being right there, right in their face when they walk out, cornering them.  _ Got you. _

“Excuse me,” the guy says, as if he doesn’t recognize them, as if he hasn’t been watching them all night, the same way that they have been watching him. Yixing tries not to laugh, but fails. The pretty boy scowls at him. “Can I get by?”

Baekhyun steps in closer. Yixing watches the other man’s pupils widen, can almost  _ hear _ his heart rate speed up. Baekhyun lays two fingers against his cheekbone, drags them down his face, traces the curve of his jaw. His touch isn’t light, it’s aggressive, prodding. A ruddy pink blooms behind the man’s cheeks.

“Hm,” Yixing says, standing behind Baekhyun and petting his hair as he looks on. “It appears not.”

Baekhyun  _ giggles.  _ “You should’ve listened to your friend.”

  
  
: : :

  
Kris should have listened to Chanyeol. Probably. He knows that is something a good, normal person would have done. Listened to their friend, been afraid of the scary men who had fixated on him in the club. He knows he should have tried to get away from them in the same way that he knows he  _ should _ save all of his pay stubs and  _ should _ wash the whites and colors separate. It’s one of those things that he knows, somewhere in his mind, but doesn’t generally pay any attention to.

They lead him out of the club, one hand on each elbow. There are no words exchanged, but the threat radiates from each of them and Kris’ heart pounds so hard in his chest he’s certain they can hear it. He’s taller than both of them, but the dark haired one has muscles and strength and the cute one is just  _ nuts _ , so he doesn’t feel confident in his ability to get away from them.

The other thing is, he doesn’t actually want to.

Kris knows that makes him fucked up. He knows that if he makes it out of this he should probably see like, a shrink, or get a cat scan or something, but to be honest this is the most fucking alive he’s felt in years. His skin is buzzing with the rush of adrenaline in his veins and he still can’t stop thinking  _ why me. _

When they get in the car, the tall one guides him into the backseat and the two of them sit up front. For about five minutes, anyway, then the crazy one is unbuckling his seat belt and climbing into the backseat with him, crawling right in his lap and playing with his hair as the one up front sings a song under his breath.

“Taylor fucking Swift? Kris asks, squinting, and the crazy one bounces in his lap and giggles softly.

“I like him,” he says to his friend, grinning, and something in Kris’ belly flutters, pleasant and warm, right before the car stops.  

  
: : :

“No,” Yixing says, shaking his head. “Your name is not Kris.”

Yixing says it in Chinese and loves the look he gets in return. He knows it well, equal parts nostalgia and fondness, respect and confusion. He also knows what it's like, trying to mold yourself into something other people can easily accept, but he doesn't have to do that tonight. 

_ Yifan,  _ he finally tells him and Yixing feels a wave of warmth roll over him at the sound of his name, the accent, the way his voice goes deeper on the second syllable. He truly is gorgeous, a work of art in human form. Up close like this Yixing can see his desperation telegraphed in little, but unmistakable movements, and it’s a good thing Baekhyun’s attention span is that of a young squirrel’s because Yixing can easily see it now, how badly this one needs it. He would’ve come with them for anything and Baekhyun, well, he likes them to have a little fight in them.

“I’m Yixing,” he tells Yifan. “This is Baekhyun.”

“Nice to meet you,” Yifan says, looking around the loft, whistling low. Then he turns around, looks at Yixing, then at Baekhyun. Yixing hasn’t seen hunger like this on anyone’ face in a long, long time. Oh, they  _ are  _ going to have fun. “Are you going to kill me or...?”

Yixing laughs, light and airy. Fear flashes in Yifan’s eyes and he drinks it in. “Is that what you want, Yifan?”

Yifan swallows. “Not especially.”

“Then no,” he says. “We didn’t bring you here to kill you.”

“Then,” Yifan says, looking nervously between the two of them again. “What did you bring me here for?”

Baekhyun slides over to Yixing and drapes himself against his side, unbuttons Yixing’s shirt and slides his hand down the expanse of his smooth, toned stomach, licks a wet stripe up the column of Yixing’s neck.

“My Baekhyun was bored,” Yixing smiles, turning his head to catch Baekhyun’s mouth in a biting, but sensual kiss, murmuring against Baekhyun’s mouth before letting him go. “Be nice _. _ ”

Baekhyun giggles as he pulls himself away from Yixing and stalks toward Yifan, a predator closing in on its prey.

“I  _ told _ you, baby,” he says, stopping just in front of Yifan and cocking his head to the side, a slow smirk curving his lips upward. “He doesn’t want nice. Do you, sweetie?”

Yifan swallows down the lump in his throat, fights back the urge to spit out  _ don’t fucking call me that,  _ fights back the even more natural instinct inside of him that wants to say  _ no, I really, really don’t. _

“The safeword is red,” Yixing says and it begins.

  
: : :

  
Yixing ties him up.

Ropes. Good, tight knots. Blindfolds him, too.  Also tight. Dark. Yifan can’t see a thing, can only hear the sound of their feet shuffling across the hardwood floors.

Yixing takes off his shirt. His pants. His briefs. Leaving him standing there, tied to some weird, wooden contraption, naked as fuck.

Yifan’s pulse is racing, heart threatening to beat out of his chest. There’s so much fear adrenaline rushing through his system that he feels like he might pass out.

He should have listened to Chanyeol. He shouldn’t have come with them. He should have said no. He --

“In case neither of us respond when you safeword out,” Yixing murmurs next to his ear as he ties the blindfold. “Just keep trying.”

He’s never been this hard in his  _ life. _

  
: : :

  
There is nothing in this life Yixing loves more than watching Baekhyun take a person apart, revealing parts of themselves even they didn’t know existed. Everyone has a darkness somewhere, it just depends on the person as to how long it takes to bring it to the surface. Some people’s darkness has been trying to breach the surface for years and it doesn’t take long at all, but others. Others can be stubborn, holding out as long as they can, enduring unfathomable amounts of pain and torture before they break.

Yixing has never seen anyone as stubborn as Yifan.

When Baekhyun flogs him, he asks for more. When he scratches him, leaving deep, bold marks down his back and arms and chest, Yifan groans and fucks his hips into the air and leaks all over himself. When Baekhyun drips hot wax all over his aching body, Yifan says  _ god, please, please, please,  _ but he never says stop. He never uses the safeword.

Yixing is paying attention this time. Mostly.

It’s just hard when Baekhyun looks so pretty like this, bottom lip pulled between his teeth as he concentrates on the task at hand, so focused. They don’t usually get far enough for him break a sweat, but Yifan is an exception obviously and Baekhyun is loving every second of it.

When Yifan says  _ hit me,  _ Yixing thinks he sees Baekhyun’s eyes genuinely light up.

When he hears Baekhyun’s knuckles crack against Yifan’s cheek, he has to press the heel of his hand against his cock, hard.

When Baekhyun draws blood, Yixing goes to him, grabs Baekhyun’s wrist and sucks his fingers into his mouth, licking, sucking, looking down at the broken, bleeding boy kneeling on the floor before them.

“Baby,” Baekhyun says soft, almost mesmerized. “He’s not done.”

Yixing just nods.

“Okay,” he says, letting out a shaky breath. “Okay.”

  
: : :

  
_ Hit me,  _ Yifan hears himself say.  _ Again. _

Pain explodes from his cheekbone down to his jaw.  _ Again. _

The skin on his lip splits open, blood spills into his mouth. He moans.

Pain is --

Pain is no longer an accurate term for what is happening to his body.

_ Hell. Torture. Agony.  _

Rapture.

His body is on fire, bleeding and burned, but despite how much it hurts, it’s a high he just can’t stop chasing. He needs more. More pain, more touch, more praise, more direction, more of the two of them talking about him like he’s not even there. More of  _ them. _

“Please,” Yifan gasps out when he stops feeling Baekhyun’s hand against his face, that bright, hot pain as his knuckles slam into his bones. “ _ Please _ , I can’t --”

“Yifan,” Yixing’s voice says from somewhere, right, left, Yifan can’t make it out anymore. He’s in the same room, probably. “You can say it, if you need to. You can say the safe --”

That’s when he breaks. Yifan starts crying and it’s absolutely not pretty and he doesn't even understand why. He chokes on the sobs, feels tears pouring down his face, feels his whole body wracked with it. Yixing or maybe Baekhyun, he doesn’t know, unties the blindfold from around his eyes, cuts the ropes from around his wrists and lets him fall to the floor.

Yifan curls into a ball. He said the wrong thing. He didn’t mean for them to stop. He didn’t want them to think he couldn’t handle more. He was just overwhelmed. He didn’t know what he was saying. He can’t --

He can’t stop fucking  _ crying _ .

  
: : :

  
Kneeling in front of Yifan, Yixing grabs Baekhyun’s face in his hands and crashes their mouths together, teeth and tongue and dark, dark hunger, growling against Baekhyun’s mouth. “Fuck him,” he says, teeth still tugging at Baekhyun’s bottom lip roughly. “Fuck him  _ now. _ ”

Baekhyun, fortunately, is worn out, so he doesn’t taunt him this time, just sheds his clothes and moves behind Yifan on the floor. Yixing does the same, quickly, and tosses him the bottle of lube.

“Baekhyun is going to fuck you now,” Yixing says, finger underneath Yifan’s chin, tipping his face up to look at him. “He broke you so beautifully and now he’s going to make you scream.”

Yifan is still crying. “ _ Please…” _

“Gorgeous,” Yixing says. “So fucking  _ pretty.  _ You just love being used like this, don’t you, Yifan? My Baekhyun gave you everything you needed, didn’t he? He hurt you in ways you had never imagined and you just kept asking for more. I’ve never seen anyone take as much pain as you, Yifan. You are absolutely extraordinary.”

Then he hooks his thumb in the corner of Yifan’s mouth and shoves his cock down his throat.

  
: : :

  
Yifan is full. Full, full,  _ full.  _ He’s choking on Yixing’s cock each time Yixing thrust in, deep and rough. He’s absolutely filled to the brim with Baekhyun’s cock, pounding into him relentlessly. They push and pull. They use him, his body, for their own pleasure. They take and take and take whatever they want, however they want it, and Yifan feels like he’s going to float out of his bones. No one has ever treated him like this before, like he’s...useful. No one would ever hurt him like this, but think he was  _ extraordinary. _

He goes lax for them, mouth wide and drooling everywhere as Yixing fucks his throat, body loose and slack for Baekhyun to fuck into, and it’s so good Yifan thinks he wouldn’t mind dying like this.

“Baby,” he hears Baekhyun whine, though it sounds a million miles away. “Want you.”

“Baek...we talked about this.”

“Shhh, no,” Baekhyun says and Yifan feels a hand come down from his hip to spread him open a little. “He can take it. Can’t you, sweetheart?”

Even if Yifan didn’t have his mouth full of cock, he has no idea what Baekhyun is even asking him to answer properly. He doesn’t, until he feels Baekhyun’s thumb rubbing at his rim, around the area stretched around his cock.

“You’d feel so good,” Baekhyun coos at him, his thumb a little more insistent. “So nice and full, both me and Xing inside of you.”

Yifan chokes again around Yixing’s cock, but this time because Baekhyun’s pushing his thumb inside of him along with his cock and Yifan is struggling to cry out, to scream, but he’s got Yixing’s cock too far down his throat to make any noise.

“He’s so cute,” Baekhyun giggles and tears roll down Yifan’s cheeks. “Let him go, Xing. I want to hear him.”

Yifan can hear Yixing huff, but he pulls out nonetheless. Yifan whimpers at the loss, but also because of the ache in his jaw he can no longer ignore.

“I think you can take us,” Baekhyun says, running his hands up and down Yifan’s back. The scratch marks there still sting like hell, especially with the sweat mingling in with them. “Can we, Yifan? Please?”

Of everything they’ve done to him tonight, this is the one thing that has Yifan absolutely terrified. But then Baekhyun says  _ please _ and kisses the back of his shoulder and Yifan suddenly gets the way Yixing looks at him like the sun’s got nothing on him.

“Yeah,” he says, voice nearly gone. “Do it.”

  
: : :

  
Yixing slides under Yifan and Baekhyun slicks him up. Then Baekhyun pulls out and lubes himself up again, pours a little onto Yifan’s abused hole just to be sure. He guides Yixing in first, watches the way Yifan’s hole greedily takes him, lets Yixing grab onto Yifan’s hip and fuck into him a few times, getting a feel for his body.

“Fuck,” Baekhyun breathes out, grabbing Yifan’s ass in his hands. “I gotta get in you.”

“W-wait --” Yifan tries, but Baekhyun is all out of patience. He’s  _ never _ had someone take so much, make him wait this long. Yifan is amazing and it’s  _ infuriating.  _ Baekhyun’s muscles ache from swinging a flogger for so long. His knuckles hurt from how many times he backhanded Yifan’s pretty face. He's  _ sweaty. _ He hates being sweaty. No one has ever worn him out like this before and maybe this is something like vengeance.

“Breathe, Yifan,” Yixing is saying, but it barely registers because all Baekhyun is focused on is tight, tight heat clenching around him, the feeling of his cock dragging against Yixing’s, the hot, tight body that is  _ theirs  _ now _.  _ “You can do this, but you have to breathe.”

“Fuck, baby,” Baekhyun whines. Neither of them are moving hardly, but it’s so  _ much.  _ They don’t do this nearly often enough. Yixing always says he doesn’t have the  _ patience _ for it, because he’s a fucking nag, but maybe, maybe they just needed someone who could take it. Maybe they needed Yifan. “Xing…”

“I know,” Yixing breathes out, meeting Baekhyun’s eyes over Yifan’s body. “I know.”

They start moving then. Slowly, rolling their hips up, moving Yifan’s body with their movements. It’s coordinated, almost fluid, and when Yifan starts crying again, Baekhyun almost comes.

“Oh  _ god _ ,” he groans, lightly raking his nails down to the scratch marks on Yifan’s back as he rocks into him. “Do you have any how good you feel, Yifan? You’re so fucking good for us, sweetheart. You take us so well, cry for us so pretty, fuck baby, make him come.”

Yixing nods and as soon as he gets his hands around Yifan, Yifan comes. Baekhyun can feel Yifan’s scream rip through him and lets out a feral noise of his own as Yifan clenches around them, tight, tight, too fucking  _ tight,  _ and he can’t hold back any longer.

“Xing,” he pants, fucking into Yifan's tightness erratically, groaning each time his dick brushes Yixing’s. “Yixing. Come...come with me, baby.”

Yixing lets out a low, rumbling groan and starts meeting Baekhyun thrust for thrust, Yifan whimpering and whining between them, probably going insane from overstimulation by now, and Baekhyun can’t hold out any longer. He sounds like something wild and feral when he comes, tipping his head back and burying himself as deep as he can in Yifan’s ass, vaguely hearing Yifan scream when he spills inside of him, and Yixing follows almost immediately, his eyes on Baekhyun’s the entire time, mouth parted slightly, gasping as the orgasm rocks through him and he spills inside of Yifan, his come mixing with Baekhyun’s.

“That was fucking beautiful,” Baekhyun says when he pulls out, then rolls over and promptly passes out.

  
: : :

  
Yixing cleans Yifan up. Yixing puts ointment on his scratches and on his wrists where the rope rubbed his skin. Yixing brings him water and a package of peanut butter crackers and an apple. Yixing says,  _ you did well. _

Yifan looks up at him like he’s grown a pair of testicles on his chin.

“It’s called aftercare,” Yixing huffs. “Now drink your water and go to sleep.”

Yixing lets Yifan sleep in the middle, squished between the two of them, even though he would probably rather be curled around Baekhyun.

Chanyeol thought they were bad news, thought they were dangerous, and maybe they are. Maybe tonight could have gone a totally different way if Yifan hadn’t done everything they wanted him to. But he doesn’t think so.

“He’s really cute when he sleeps,” Yifan murmurs, not really sure if Yixing is still awake or not until Yixing huffs out a small laugh.

“He hit you in the face until you bled and you think he’s cute,” he says. “Yifan, I think there might be something very wrong with you.”

Yifan chews on the inside of the bottom of his lip nervously. It’s not the first time he’s heard that. His father. His friends. His guidance counselor. His therapist.

“I also think,” Yixing says, looping his arm around Yifan’s waist and pressing close, whispering next to his ear, “That we just might have to keep you.”


End file.
